


Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

by escritoireazul



Category: Blue Crush (2002)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as she thinks, hey, I should see who called, the phone buzzes against her palm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catalinay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catalinay/gifts).



> Prompt: family  
> Author's Note: This is a transformative work of fiction set after the events of the movie Blue Crush. It's a companion piece to ["Hold Your Breath (Breathe Out Now)"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/36401) and ["Charge the Waves (In the Sea of Love)"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/62720), but you don't have to read them to understand this.

Anne Marie’s fingers and toes ache with the cold and her nose is so chilled she can’t feel it anymore. Weird thing, because you don’t really think about feeling your nose until it’s gone, but she pokes it experimentally with the tip of one finger and sure enough, it’s numb.

Being cold is bad enough, but she’s so tired she’s nearly sick from it. Her stomach lurches every time she tilts her head and her eyes burn. She’s been awake -- god, she can’t even count that high right now. Lots and lots of hours.

Seattle’s frozen over and she’s stuck at some stupid motel on the way to the airport spending money that’s supposed to go to gifts for her family for Christmas and she’s alone and life just really, really sucks.

She’s so out of it she doesn’t realize for a couple seconds that the weird buzz in the background isn’t the crappy heater failing to warm her room fast enough or maybe threatening to explode but is instead her phone. Then she doesn’t actually put it together -- phone ringing = answer it -- for another second.

By the time she’s scrambling over the bed to dig into her carry-on, she gets to the phone just in time for it to stop.

“Damn it,” she curses and just stands there, the phone cupped in her hand, her head down. She wants to sleep, but she’s a little afraid if she does, she’ll never wake up, she’ll freeze to death while dreaming. Also, she’s been awake so long she must have forgotten how to fall asleep because when she laid down nothing happened but a long time of shivering under the covers until she got up to mess with the heater and now here she is, still cold and tired and almost in tears because she missed a stupid call.

Just as she thinks, hey, I should see who called, the phone buzzes against her palm.

She snaps it open without checking the caller id and mumbles a hello.

“Hey baby.” Eden’s voice is husky and warm. “You enjoying the blizzard?”

“It’s a snowpocalypse!” Anne Marie hears Penny yell in the background.

“No! It’s horrible here. I think I’m a block of ice!” But already she feels better, the sound of home waking her. Penny steals the phone -- or Eden hands it over, she can’t quite tell -- and her sister’s bright, bouncing voice makes her grin.

A phone call can’t literally drive away the cold, but she crawls back into bed, piles the pillows up, and pulls all the covers up to her chin. That’s better. The bed’s not so bad, it’s soft and the pillows fluffy.

Anne Marie flexes her feet, pointing her toes and watching the way the covers move while Penny babbles at her about her friends and surfing and the way she and Lena have decorated the house. Eventually she’ll talk to Lena and then Eden again and maybe Kala’s there too. That’d be nice. If not, well, she’ll hear from him soon enough and she knows Eden’s keeping him in line.

She misses her family, Penny and Lena, Eden and Kala, and hates that this thing she loves so much keeps her away from them so often, but she’ll be home soon -- not soon enough, but soon -- and there she’ll stay for the holidays.


End file.
